From Seattle: "Dunk Tank," by Richard Isherman

I hopped on the shiny silver and red “C” line bus this morning and, because I have been so long absent, was unsure of what I might find. Or who. I cast about for familiar faces and, despite the crowd, everyone is new to me. Almost immediately, my attention is drawn to one of these new faces. He’s probably in his middle thirties and appears to be soaking wet. (Read more here.)